


Love's Cruel Joke

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, First Kiss, Hurt and comfort, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Protective Crowley, a lot of angst on Crowley's part, vague mentions of first time sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Crowley has loved Aziraphale from the first moment he laid eyes on him in the garden of Eden, it's that love that torments him, and fills him with a hope that no demon should be capable of feeling.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 65





	Love's Cruel Joke

Love was a cruel devastating thing, something that typically Crowley would say Hell came up with to cause ever lasting pain and suffering for humanity, but in reality, God had created love. She had filled him and all the angels with it, a bright shining light they could always feel. Then when the Fall happened supposedly all love was drained from them, burned away with their white wings and their angelic light. If that were true though then why did he feel love, feel it so strongly that it caused him intense bouts of pain? It had to be a fault in her design, that was a laugh to think about, that God made mistakes. She wasn’t supposed to make mistakes, it was impossible really. No she had to be doing this just to torture him; she had to know that he would be in Eden at that time, she’d sent down the one angel in all of Heaven who didn’t know who he had been, didn’t know that he’d been the one to hang the stars in the sky and make them shine so brightly.

Sometimes over the years and decades Crowley considered telling Aziraphale about that, nearly bragging that he’d been the one to make those stars that he so often adored when they were out late at night. They shone the brightest back before the humans created artificial lights, polluting the world with it, suffocating themselves with noises and smoke. Crowley wondered if he would be impressed by that, if he would be amazed that a demon could ever even before the Fall be capable of creating something of such delicate beauty. He worried and doubted he would care, worried that an angel couldn’t love him. He was quite sure that Aziraphale just maybe did believe that demons were incapable of love, after all he was so disgustingly devoted to Heaven. Sometimes he wondered if it was coming from a place of true blind faith or perhaps it came from a place of fear, fear of what they would do to him if they knew, if they suspected. Crowley knew that what relationship they did have, as strained as it was, still was against Heaven’s rule. Heaven did not plan for demons and angels to communicate, to go out to dinner together, to share a cab, or walk side by side. It was why he’d asked for the holy water, if his side especially ever found out then he had a fighting chance, he could take out some demons before they overpowered him, destroyed him. He liked to think if Hell found out that he could convince them he was tempting the angel, that he wanted to commit the ultimate sin in making an angel fall from grace. 

Of course, the idea of the lie alone filled him with misery, caused his chest to ache. He feared his own feelings towards Aziraphale, worried about what it meant. Just a cruel torture was what he told himself time and time again, it was easy to believe that most times. It was simple enough to believe what he felt was his alone, that kind smiles and adoring eyes weren’t meant for him. Aziraphale was an angel, he was for the most part kind, selfish, but still kind, nonetheless. He was so certain in his loneliness, in the belief that there was nothing there. That was until two years after Aziraphale finally caved in and gave him the holy water, it had seemed like he wouldn’t speak to him again. Crowley knew what he thought that he planned on destroy himself with it if things went wrong, and he wasn’t entirely wrong. He couldn’t hold off demons forever, it would never be enough to destroy all of them that came for him. His own destruction had been an idea, a way to keep his dear friend safe, if he no longer existed to tempt and to corrupt then Aziraphale would be truly safe. These plans, these ideas, and these beliefs that he held so close to himself, to his wretched heart that he would rip from his chest cavity if given the opportunity were all taken from him two years after he was given the holy water, the alleged suicide pill when they met again. He hadn’t known what drew him to it, perhaps loneliness, worry, worry that their last interaction was their last ever. He’d gone to the book shop, gone with no words to say, only offering a smile and an attitude that screamed ‘I don’t care, I’m not made to care.’ That attitude, that lazy smile died the second arms were wrapped around him so tightly, lips pressed against his in a desperate kiss and he was certain he was dreaming. A cruel dream if it had been one, it wouldn’t be the first time his dreams taunted him in such a fashion. Yet it wasn’t a dream, he buried his fingers in soft curls of hair, was so certain and sure of the warmth of the body pressed so tightly against his as if one of them might disappear were there to be even a sliver of space between them. He’d felt hands run along his sides, shaking hands that touched the sides of his face, fingers tracing along the sigil tattooed into his skin reminding him eternally of what he was, nothing but a snake. Adoring, loving eyes looked at him, warm breath against his face, lips pressed against his jaw and Crowley could do nothing but return those touches. The lack of speaking, the lack of explanation killed him deep down. It killed him not knowing what brought this on, two years apart, being told he went too fast for him and now suddenly they were here kissing where anybody could walk in on them. With a snap of his fingers they were upstairs, on a bed that he didn’t quite remember being there the last time he’d dropped by, though he’d never gone upstairs all that much, never had cause to. 

Worries and fears flashed through his mind as they lay on that bed together, as the angel kissed down his throat, whispered so quietly against his heated skin that he couldn’t make out the words. He worried what this meant, worried that the angels would smell the scent of demon clinging to Aziraphale’s skin after this was over. He worried that he’d change his mind after this, that he’d despise him, accuse him of temptation. He found himself gently pushing his friend away, hating himself for the action when he saw the alarm and confused hurt on his face as he realized he just maybe fucked up.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why, I shouldn’t have assumed.” He began apologizing, nervously fretting with his clothes, eyes downcast.

Crowley placed a hand against his cheek, fingers stroking against warm soft skin. “No, don’t, I wanted that, this, you. Just are you sure, like absolutely sure about this?”

He needed to be certain, then again, all the reassurance in the world wouldn’t make him feel better. He worried about all the things this meant, it felt too good to be true to get what he’d desired for so many years. He’d desired him and loved him ever since Eden.

“I am, I was worried after our talk that you-that I wouldn’t see you again.” There was a sadness to his voice, Crowley wished he’d called, come to see him sooner.

He hadn’t wanted him to spend the past two years thinking the worst, waiting to feel that connection fade to nothingness. He pressed a kiss against his forehead, “I’m sorry angel, should have called you, or come by sooner. You know I wouldn’t do that to you, right?” He couldn’t stand the idea of just leaving, of just destroying himself without ever telling him so many unspoken things.

Aziraphale took hold of his hand, “I like to think so, but you were so determined to get the holy water, I wasn’t certain anymore.” He spoke softly, his voice breaking.

“I’m sorry, really am, I swear to you that I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t just leave like that.” He didn’t want to put words to what they were thinking, he wasn’t sure he could properly manage this conversation if he said it, if he said many things.

“You scare me sometimes,” he confessed, smiling sadly as he glanced up at the demon.

Crowley could feel the ache in his chest, he knew him, and his behavior made him sad like this.

“I’m a demon, we’re typically supposed to be scary.” He reminded him, reminded himself.

“No, not that, it’s just…. you don’t act the way they told us that demons would, you don’t act like the other demons, or even the angels. I’ve spent years waiting and hoping that you would, a part of me has always hoped you would do something truly horrendous and it would make things easier. Yet you never had, I know that you don’t like when I compliment you, but I can’t help myself. You’re kind to me, kind in general really.”

“I’m not supposed to be kind.” He weakly argued.

“Yet you are, you could treat me so horribly, but you don’t. I’m the one who keeps hurting you and don’t say that I haven’t, because I have. I can tell, I can feel it when I say something that hurts you. I just, I get scared, I’m scared right now even. It was just seeing you again and I wished so badly that I had kissed you before, so many times.” 

Crowley was thankful for his glasses obscuring his eyes, though it did nothing to hide his quickened breath or the way his heartbeat quickly. He nearly longed to run away from this, from the inevitable route this was heading. 

“I’m not worth it, if they find out that you’ve been with me then they’ll make you Fall.” Crowley reminded him, he wanted selfishly for this moment to never end, but he needed to remind him of the reality.

The reality that angels weren’t all that kind or understanding, that if they saw this happening or if they could sense that he’d been with a demon then it would end horribly for him. He knew he couldn’t ever deal with it if he was the cause of Aziraphale’s Fall, he’d hate himself forever.

“I know, I’ve thought about it, I think about it often. Still I’m more scared of what they would do to you, if I Fall then well, I can find a way to deal with that, to live with that, but if they destroy you then….I can’t handle that, losing my Grace would be bad enough, but losing you. I can’t do that.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke, Crowley brushed the tears from his skin.

He longed to kiss him and to hold him, but the thought petrified him. He found himself unable to move from his spot sitting in front of him, scared of what it would mean if he wrapped his arms around him and held him closely. He could offer him cold comfort, sweet terrible lies that nobody would ever have to find out about the two of them, that they could walk the Earth in peace without ever being found out. That within these four walls they were safe, but glamour only worked so long against angels. 

“Angel we can’t, it isn’t worth the risk.” He weakly argued, voice breaking. His words were so fragile and hollow, nothing behind them except for begging. He wanted to beg him to make this easy, to hate him, and toss him out on his ass.

“I love you; you know, I know that you know, you must.” Aziraphale spoke, his voice trembling as he stared up at him.

The words were everything he’d craved and feared. All logic telling him to run left his mind at the sound of those beautiful tempting and horrible words. Love was a disgusting emotion that she’d gifted them with so cruelly, a feeling that a demon shouldn’t feel. An angel shouldn’t be capable of loving a demon, not really, not in this way. A demon at least should have better resolve than Crowley who found himself removing his glasses tossing them onto the bed, he cupped the angel’s face in his hands drawing him in and kissing him passionately. Laid him back against the bed needing him, wanting him, no longer certain that he could care what the angels would think of this, of them.

“I love you, I love you more than anything in this idiotic world.” He whispered against his lips. 

He wasn’t meant to love and yet he did. He knew the dangers of loving, of loving him, and having those feelings returned just as strongly. Fear filled them both at the idea of what this meant, of what desperate kisses and loving touches that soon turned frantic and needy really meant for them when this all went to Hell, but that didn’t prevent them from loving each other. It didn’t prevent Crowley from holding him closely through the night, watching over him, one black wing draped over the angel’s sleeping form ensuring nothing got to them. Not in this moment, their one moment of true happiness.


End file.
